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Rating:
It will be the festival of unkempt beards and the black t-shirt fest...
I was eagerly awaiting the only scheduled date of these Australian kangaroos in our land... (I mean, weren't they wolves not kangaroos? Yes well, I'll explain that to you later...) I was mentally counting down, knowing that among all the concerts I would attend this summer, it would rank in the top 3 or 4, big stuff as far as I'm concerned.
Believe me, I had dreamed and imagined it several times. Like an out-of-season autumn day, rainy and a bit out of place, that wouldn't get you off the couch even with cannon shots. And yet we would have left in four, at sunset, me and the usual Hard-Rock combo regulars of live gigs. Despite a "fascinating" scenic tour of the adjacent highways, (see under we took a wrong turn and drove about forty km towards Bologna), we would arrive early, with empty stomachs and butts sunk into the seats of the German turbo diesel.
The venue would quickly fill up to become a pleasant, trembling throng, but still orderly in its chatter.
Two huge leopards in the background, quick soundcheck and the lights already stop shining, ergo the four grab the instruments and throw you a killer scream-inducing triple: "Dimension", "New Moon Rising" and (thought they would keep it warmer for later) that "Woman" manifesto from the first album. And which I personally immediately considered a Paranoid of the 2000s, with its tremendous drive, that force capable of carrying an unknown band across half the world's stages and making even the girl with the tight glasses and braided hair sing. All three tracks properly extended with spontaneous improvisations.
Oh I forgot, you can safely delete what I said above about the throng, now it’s all a basin of excited and howling people with arms flailing in the air. Andrew Stockdale is just as I expected: curly-haired plays his "diavoletto" with a '70s flair, holding the audience in his hands with a slightly crazy gaze and with that high-pitched voice reminiscent, needless to say, of the blond Robert. In essence, he does the star act and he does it well. But the real surprise is Ian Peres master of the "bass and keys" duo, a funambolic character reminiscent in gait and especially in appearance of Mel Schacher from Grand Funk. He sends people into raptures when he throws himself on that hammond spectacularly reminiscent of a random California Jam and fills "Cosmic Egg", the psychedelic "Mind’s Eye" and "Colossal" with a primordial verve making them even tastier, if possible.
Meanwhile, a "White Unicorn" (very long) interspersed with a credible version of "Riders On The Storm" and a new track credited by most as "Everyday Drone" direct like a successful single with an epic guitar solo in the middle would have carved itself a spot too. I would have preferred as a breather "Far Away" from the second "Cosmic Egg", instead the chosen "slow" is "By The Sword" from Slash's solo album, played so-so and sung a bit struggling by Andrew, more at ease when he can release his voice without too many dynamics. Another surprise a "Baba O'Riley" (sung with gusto by everyone, and I mean everyone) with Stockdale in his tight black jeans brushing the greatness of a Roger Daltrey and Peres replicating the famous intro that was Pete's. In the front, in the middle of the chaos I mean, it’s a semi-delirium of unrestrained people bouncing here and there across the room like mad springs. Between Sabbath (even more than half), Zeppelin, early Purple, and a touch of the more underground Budgie. Everything as per script, including a parade of Gibsons SG in various colors.
They will leave behind a sticky and frothy mass under the stage, us on the balcony to the left of the stage with dry throats and ears still full of "Joker And The Thief" as a sparkling set finale.
It will be an hour and three-quarters without a break plus two encores, practically two full, rounded, square, and also bracketed hours of music.
They were great, they gave everything and even more than I expected from them. Really didn’t think...Couldn’t be better, everyone celebrating. The four of them, the four of us, the rest of the "people", those at the venue for the box office takings and those at the merchandising probably cheering for the t-shirt sales record! Outside there’s a ten degree drop, it's still raining and badly. We’ll find the German car in the parking lot nice and shiny and ready to make a wet cloud the memory of this evening, heading towards the east Milan ring road. That's all. Then I wake up.
All or partly is what will happen tonight around 10 p.m. between Milan and Bergamo believe me when I tell you I dreamt it this way. Ask those who were there and if it happens to you in the future...With eyes closed. That Wolfmother live are a damn seventies band that rocks!
Commendatore Bossolazzi’s opinion:
All happy and content as in the most announced happy ending. For a few loquats. 5 to be precise.
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